The Uncalled
19
did n't have no linen worth havin'," she said to herself, "but I'll jest look." And look she did, but without success. In disappointment and disgust she went out and took the streamer of dusty black and dingy white crape from the door where it had fluttered, and, bringing it in, laid it on the empty trestles, that the undertaker might find it when he came for them. She took the cloth off the mirror, and then, with one searching look around to see that she had missed nothing worth taking, she went out, closing and locking the door behind her.
"I guess I'm as much entitled to anything Mag had as any one else," said Mrs. Warren.
